


Elderberries and Tannin

by Missy



Category: 12 Dancing Princesses (Fairy Tale)
Genre: Astral Projection, Gen, Monologue, POV First Person, Running Away, Self-Rescue, Witchcraft, Yuletide Madness, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-06
Updated: 2018-11-06
Packaged: 2019-08-19 14:09:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16536050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy
Summary: "There are only twelve of us, and there were so many monsters, moving through the shadows, coming only at night to eat our food and drink our wine and help us float across the dance floors, gliding along like birds over a sea we had never been invited to cross."One princess, and her planned escape.





	Elderberries and Tannin

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lady Sarai (lady_sarai)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lady_sarai/gifts).



There are only twelve of us, and there were so many monsters, moving through the shadows, coming only at night to eat our food and drink our wine and help us float across the dance floors, gliding along like birds over a sea we had never been invited to cross.

 

Sliding under the covers, trapped between two doors, is it any wonder we hold hands and ran from this with our bodies, our minds? Is it any wonder we, locked away in this palace, figured out how to transfigure ourselves beyond the bounds of mere mortals? To go to a sweet, beautiful place where we are guileless and heedless together, running like children as we dance with the men who have come from places they never tell us about – face to face and heart to heart. Some we fancy deeply. Some cause us to hope that they will sweep us off to far corners where the courts are more permissive, where magic can be explained with a shrug and joy never dies. Some we hope will stay as the shoes wear out and are cobbled back together, as our father watches us with increasing disapproval in his eyes. 

 

We know he’s making plans. We know that he wants us to be settled comfortably away, locked into marriage and motherhood, in worlds where monastic dynasties continue along no matter how many princesses live or die, and spellbooks are burned without a by-your-leave. 

 

We all do.

 

Our salvation lies within the palms of our hands. The power is ours, and we will use it without fear. The smell of elderberries and tannin fill the halls, but they dismiss it as leftover odors from dinner. The feeling of something disquieting in the air is ignored. Together we will disappear in the night, and all that will be left of us in the morning will be our fancy silken dresses, our worn-out shoes.


End file.
